


Firsts

by sciencebutch



Series: Tumblr Prompts [9]
Category: Marvel
Genre: M/M, bruce is that chris fleming video "im afraid to talk to men", cuz hes afraid to talk to men, especially Thor, fuck. i love that lil dude., skaar is BABIE.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 18:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18103970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencebutch/pseuds/sciencebutch
Summary: Bruce bumps into Thor while taking his son to school.





	Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> alternate title for this fic is "i love skaar lots and lots"

Bruce was not a morning person. He had tried getting in the habit of waking early once, during his “mental wellness” phase, and he really could never get used to the feeling of being so tired he had absolutely no clue as to what was going on at any time, unfortunately. In fact, during the whole “morning person” thing, he found himself feeling less like a person as the day progressed. And he felt that the sight of the sunrise was totally underwhelming, and people really gave the whole “waking up thing” too much hype, and really, the cons far outweighed the pros. So no, he was not a morning person, thank you very much.

This was why he was quite irked when a bony mass of 5-year-old found its way - rather rudely, with a whole lot of tumult and elbows - onto his stomach.

“Dad! Dad wake up! the mass shouted, bouncing up and down, practically vibrating. Bruce groaned and threw an arm over his eyes.

“Gimme…five more minutes…” he slurred, tongue swollen in his mouth from sleep.

“No. Wake up! It’s school time!”

Bruce opened his eyes with great difficulty. A blob swirled in his vision, and he reached blindly out to find his glasses, before fumbling them onto his nose. The blob sharpened into Skaar, Bruce’s son. He was wiry, all lanky and thin despite eating nearly enough to feed a village most nights, with beetle-black eyes that glittered like chitin, and shoulder length dark hair that Bruce had tried to control on many occasions, but had given up after so many fruitless attempts. Splotches of pale skin traveled up his arms like snakes, a symptom of his vitiligo. Skaar said they looked like tattoos, to which Bruce would reply: “You’re too young to have tattoos”.

Skaar also happened to be starting kindergarten today, a fact which brought the child boundless excitement, and Bruce only limited excitement, because he had to wake up at 6:00 AM. Other than that he was beyond the moon, a state which clearly showed as Bruce said:

“It’s too early,” to which Skaar replies:

“It’s never too early to learn!” which is a philosophy that Bruce wholly agrees with. So he manages to get up, trap Skaar into a loving hug (Skaar squirms the whole time), and then stumble downstairs to make coffee.

And then time passed in a blur, the way time usually does when you’re sleep deprived, and Skaar and Bruce were leaving the house hand and hand.

Skaar skipped alongside him, backpack almost larger than he and bouncing in tandem with his steps. Bruce interviewed him as they went.

“So, what are you most excited to learn about?”

“Rocks.”

“What kind of rocks?”

“All rocks.”

The proceeding conversations occurred in a similar format, with Skaar responding with less and less words as they got more and more close to the school. He stopped answering completely when he heard the din of students entering the school in swathes.

“Hey bud, you nervous?”

Skaar vehemently shakes his head. Bruce grips his hand tighter and they continue on.

The teacher - a twig of a man who introduces himself as Mr. Rogers - stands in the midst of a playground, watching other kids play and speaking to parents as Bruce and Skaar arrive. He greets Skaar warmly before turning to do the same to Bruce, and they chat a bit before a voice interrupts:

“Loki!” it says, “Do not run too far ahead!” and Bruce turns to stare at perhaps the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. A halo glows angelically atop his head and - wait, no, that can’t be right. Bruce blinks, and the halo morphs into beams of light reflecting off the man’s blond hair. His eyes are light and bounce jovially, though his mouth is in a frustrated frown.

His kid - Loki, Bruce thinks - frowns and waits petulantly for the man to catch up. And then the two are close, face to face, and their eyes lock.

“Hello,” the man says.

“Hello,” Bruce replies. A pause. “Lovely day we’re having, huh?” he says dumbly, even though it’s nippy and damp and not lovely at all, actually.

“Yes,” the man lies. “I’m Thor,” says Thor.

“Banner - Bruce Banner, Doctor. Doctor Bruce Banner.” He stumbles over his name like someone who doesn’t have seven PhDs, and then mentally slaps himself for looking like an idiot. He almost slaps himself in real life, but he comes to the conclusion that really, that wouldn’t help with the situation at all.

Thor smiles. Loki - who had materialized at Thor’s side while Bruce wasn’t looking - blanched and groaned.

“Give him your phone number already, will you?” Bruce agreed with this sentiment, though he probably wouldn’t have put it that rudely. Thor coughs and nudges Loki, blushing furiously. Loki grins mischievously up at Thor before running off.

“I’m sorry about my little brother; he can be…a handful.” Thor grits out.

“Ah, um, you can, I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you, uh. Did that. Gave me your phone number, I mean.” Bruce desperately wanted to throw himself into the sun after that dreadful interaction.

Bruce could feel Skaar frowning at his side. Dying of embarrassment, probably.  _Me too kid._

Thor, on the other hand, smiled, took out his phone, and said, “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr!


End file.
